The Coffee Boy
by tombombadillo
Summary: The best coffee in the world, courtesy of a certain Ianto Jones.


**A/N: because in my headcanon Castle gets his coffee from Ianto Jones coffee extraordinaire who is not dead he did not die in CoE he is just hiding in New York O KAY**

**Disclaimer: Captain Jack/Ianto Jones/Alonso Frame is a threesome that exists in my head and probably not in Marlowes.**

* * *

"Castle, where are we going?"

It's not that she doesn't want to go where ever it is he's taking her (she does. Always wants to go where ever he goes) but Kate was really quite happy being asleep. Or as asleep as she can be when Castle's hands were doing whatever it was they were doing. And then he'd stopped and insisted that she get out of bed, get dressed and actually leave the apartment. She wouldn't have minded. If only he'd actually finished what he'd started. She sighs a little. Wistfully, maybe. At a push.

"What are you sighing about?" he asks, turning his head to look at her. He's smiling, but there's something underlying. The constant worry that she's not happy. That something's wrong with her, with him, with them.

"You dragged me out of bed and you won't even tell me where we're going." she finds his hand with hers, canting into him. Trying to reassure him that she's really not annoyed. Not really.

He smiles again, wider, eyes crinkling. Nudges her shoulder with his."Believe me, when we get there you won't even care that I got you out of bed. You are going to love it."

Kate let the point slide, knowing that there were many and numerous times that he had said she would love something, and she'd ended up raising an eyebrow at him. The dinosaur museum being a perfect example. And the world's largest cream pie fight (she'd rather they had fights with cream in the sanctity of the bedroom). Granted she hadn't particularly minded the running through the Angel of the Waters fountain at Bethesda Terrace in Central Park at four am in nothing but their underwear, though they'd both paid for it with a day of sneezing after it.

"Here it is!" Castle cries gleefully, stopping so suddenly that Kate walks into the back of him.

She looks up. "The Coffee Boy?"

"Mhm! Best coffee in the world. Ever."

"Better than yours?"

"Oh, Kate. This coffee is better than my coffee. Way better." He pushes open the door, walks in ahead of her, grinning madly.

The shop is modern and spacious and full of light. Tasteful reds and browns and creams. And the smell of coffee. Kate breaths in, lets the smell wash over her. Maybe it was worth being dragged out of bed. A man approaches them, dressed in a dark red shirt and a blue tie, blue eyes twinkling. It's almost like he and Castle are brothers.

"Mr. Castle! It's very nice to see you again."

"The same to you, Mr. Jones. May I introduce my partner, Kate Beckett?"

Mr. Jones grins, holds out a hand. Good firm handshake. She likes him already. "Good to finally meet you. It's hard to get him to shut up about you."

"Kate has her own methods of shutting me up. It's okay."

Kate elbows him in the side. "It's nice to meet you, too. Castle tells me you have the best coffee in the world?"

"Castle tends to exaggerate." He replies, tipping his head forward slightly. "Take a seat. I'll bring your coffees over in a second."

The booth Castle led her over to was secluded enough for Kate's liking, but still had a decent view out onto the street. "Do we not have to order the coffee?"

"Order?" Castle laughed. "Not here. Ianto has some kind of coffee sixth sense. It's quite freaky really."

"Huh. What accent is that?"

"Welsh. Came over here from Cardiff, Wales in oh nine. Opened up The Coffee Boy."

"Why did he leave?"

"He won't tell me." Castle pouted. "Says it's a secret."

"You've already got the story in your head, right?"

He grinned. "Conspiracy theory. It has to be. Plus, I googled him and he doesn't show up anywhere. Like, he's literally been wiped from existence."

"No conspiracy theories, Mr. Castle. I just keep myself to myself." Ianto Jones reappeared, carrying a tray of two large mugs of steaming coffee.

Castle scoffed. "But you know me well enough to know that I do not believe you."

"As long as I don't make an appearance in one of your books, you can believe whatever you like."

"_See_, why else would you not want to be in a book? It wouldn't even be you. But only a person undercover wouldn't want even the smallest hint of themselves to appear anywhere in the public eye. It makes _sense._ Kate, back me up here."

"Castle you already know how I feel about your many conspiracy theories."

"You love them just as much as you love me?"

"Yeah, something like that." She smiled, shook her head and reached out for the nearest mug. "So, Castle tells me you have a sixth sense for coffee?"

"Skinny latte, two pumps vanilla and no sugar. Right?"

Kate looked at Castle. "You told him."

"I did not!" Kate narrowed her eyes at him, and he grinned back. "Cross my heart, until now your coffee tastes have remained an elusive secret known only to you. And me. I told you! It's magic!"

"No magic."

"It so is! You automatically know what kind of coffee somebody wants without them having to utter a word!"

"I just observe closely."

"So, you're Sherlock Holmes?"

"No. Just good at knowing people." Ianto smiled. "Now, drink up. You know how much I hate it when coffee goes cold."

Castle saluted. "Yes sir."


End file.
